


No one but you

by TheWindsOfWolves



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Some Jonsa fluff, and Jon being a romantic extra ass I guess, with a fuckton of hugs and pecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWindsOfWolves/pseuds/TheWindsOfWolves
Summary: If he survives, he thinks as he caresses her back, he will tell her how much she means to him. He will tell her how she's haunting him, how he only wishes to stay by her side and to make her happy.





	No one but you

**Author's Note:**

> [title from the song Strange Birds, by Byrdie]
> 
> Here I am again, with a second one-shot - not related to "You will be bloodness again." I just wanted to give these two some tenderness. Enjoy ! (Please forgive me for the possible grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.)

Now this is just the two of them left in the hall. They stare at each other for a moment, unable to talk. And then Sansa comes to him, as she did that day in Castleblack - the day he started to being alive again. Jon wraps her in his arms as she fiercely hugs him, holding her tight against him, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating so fast and so strong that he wonders if she can feel it too.

“Please,” she whispers against his neck, her breath brushing his skin, “don’t do anything reckless or stupid.” He smiles. “Me, reckless ?” She slightly step back, without breaking their embrace, to look at him. She’s not smiling. “Should I remind you about this stupid wight hunt ?” Her concern reminds him of a mother - he tries his best not to laugh. “Aye, I give you that one.” She rolls her eyes. “Not only that one, Jon. You always want to save everyone. Try not to play the hero this time.”

Her eyes are shinny with tears. He doesn’t like to see her in pain. He cups the back of her head and bring her back against him. “I promise you I won’t do anything reckless, or stupid, or heroic,” he says as he gently kisses her hair. She tightens her grip around his neck. “Thank you.” He feels her lips, warm and soft, pressing a wet kiss on his neck, making his heart pounding even harder.

This is the closest - both emotionaly and physically - they have been since Bran told him about his true parents. Sansa had been cold to him when he came back after he bent the knee, even though she kept supporting him and his decisions in front of the Northern Lords, being a pleasant host for the Dragon Queen and her party, despite of the glimpse of jealousy he thought he catched in her eyes whenever Daenerys Targaryen would touch his arm or smile to him. And yet Sansa had been the one to confort him, to tell him that he was still a Stark. She had been caring and loyal, and the deep and inexplicable feelings he was ashamed of had grown even deeper, as he had now no reason left to feel guilt or shame for the way he longed for her smiles, her presence and her affection.

He tries to memorize every details of this moment : her fragrance, the softness of her hair, the warmth of her body. He will keep that moment for himself, and remembering her embrace when he will fight. If he survives, he thinks as he caresses her back, he will tell her how much she means to him. He will tell her how she made him feel alive again when he was broken beyond the repairable. He will tell her how everything he’s done since he came back was for her, to keep her safe. He will tell her how as he could just have given up when his own men had almost burried him alive as he was fighting for their home and when he barely could fell his body, chilled to the bone beyond the wall during that suicide wight hunt, it was the memory of her face who gave him enough courage to keep fighting. He will tell her how she’s haunting him, how he only wishes to stay by her side and to make her happy. Or he could tell her now ? He could tell her all of this with just three words now.

He presses his forehead against hers. Both of them are breathing heavily. He puts his hand on her cheek. She grabs it and presses her face against it. “Sansa, I lo…” “No. Don’t say it now.” He frowns. “Why not ? It could be the last time…” “This is why, Jon. You would tell me you… You would tell this to me as if you didn’t except to come back. I don’t want you to say it like this.” “Oh.” She kisses his cheek, then gives him a tiny smile. “When you will come back, you will tell me. And I will… I will tell you, too.”

“Aye, I will tell you… when I will come back.” He nods, then embraces her once again, her face nestling once again in his neck. He approaches his lips to her ear, and whispers : “I will also kiss you when I come back.” She giggles. He memorizes the sound, smiling for himself, as he thinks of the way he will later remember this moment : Sansa in his arms, making him promise to come back to her so he could tell her he loved her, and giggling at the perspective of the kiss they will share when he will return.


End file.
